Connecting with God through poetic articulations of lived, embodied experience–engaging texts from the Revised Common Lectionary for Christian churches, other biblical and spiritual texts, and evocations of the divine in rituals and other public events–always accepting lived reality as a primary source of divine revelation and mystery.

Time to Sign Up

Reflection in Response to Proper 9, 7th Sunday after Pentecost

We are descended from the seventy appointed by Jesus to go to all the towns where he intended to go. So we too must go, offering like Elisha our version of God’s power and wisdom to heal those who are sick or broken— such as Naaman, the mighty warrior, commanding troops but unable to command God’s man who heals not on human order but on divine grace—and so many today seeking help, thinking they can gain blessed, fruitful life, not from holy agents but from acquiring more things, controlling more people, building walls and attacking those they fear, not trusting God or really anyone, even their sacred selves.

diggingdeepernow.org

There seems so little faith today, even among ones who proclaim how strong is their belief, confusing belief with faith, the latter being, as sainted Bill Coffin said long ago, not believing without proof but trusting without reservation. Can we trust God,will we trust Her to not only send us out to the places we are needed but also to give us the tools we need to do what is right before us, the first tool being sight clear enough to see the work, brave enough not to look the other way, smart enough to escape the snares put in our way.

Can we be as wise as Naaman’s servants who counseled him not to be dazzled by showy demonstrations of prophetic power or in thinking it is he who knows the way of healing because he is a man of earthly power—can we in short go about God’s work, our work, with a quiet determination, listening to deep parts of ourselves, seeing God in the faces and lives of others, trusting our call—yes, you, me, everyone, has a call, maybe more than one but often we miss it, paying attention to life’s fluff and stuff, thinking we can be made whole, and others as well, through the market and social media, watching videos, unreality television, celebrity sightings, forgetting God comes so often in stillness, soft voices gentle glances of care, loving touches of our sacred bodies.

It is easy to admire the 70 who went out for the Lord and then to look askance at how they enjoyed their moments of fame, as if we are so pure and unwilling to be drawn in by worldly lures— indeed we best start by signing up to receive our assignments, admitting we feel ill-prepared and need to lean on everlasting arms that will carry us from place to place, errand to errand, in humble service, whose reward is not “volunteer of the year” but rejoicing, as Jesus said, for our names written in heaven.

About this poem . . . The story of Naaman’s healing by Elisha is a suitable backdrop for the account of Jesus sending the 70 into the field, neither the General nor the disciples aware of how dependent they are on God’s grace and power. And it causes me to recognize in myself certain tendencies of self-aggrandizement and congratulation, cutting me off from sacred union with the divine within.